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The Concubines of Anubis

For bbbuuu

By Draconicon

"You're not worth this level of overkill..."

But it was still better safe than sorry, Amaros thought as he tied up the antelope that he'd been sent to retrieve. The passed-out drunk snored loudly as the black hawk cuffed him to the bed, pulling the other man's arms over his head and slapping a double-pair of magnetized restraints in place. He pushed the antelope's legs up and did the same with the man's ankles. Sure, it'd piss the asshole off to wake up like that - and probably hurt like hell - but considering the time that Kent had wasted, Amaros felt that it was fair play.

Shaking his head, he sat down at the foot of the bed, fumbling through his vest pockets. He knew that there was nothing left in there, none of the selvitride patches that he'd packed for the trip, but he looked anyway. His fingers weren't shaking yet, but that was only a few hours away at this rate.

"Fucking asshole..."

The hawk clicked his beak in annoyance. Even the shift in his language showed that the effects of the drug were wearing off. Amaros could usually keep his emotions in check, buried beneath the low buzz of the corporate-provided patches. The trials were meant to test out if someone could stay functional while on the selvitride, provided that it was kept to the low, maintained doses that would keep emotions buried and the user focused on the task at hand, and so far, it worked. It made him less bothered by things, kept nightmares at bay, and kept him at his most professional.

But when it started wearing off...

Another beak click as he gave up searching his many pockets. There were too many to go through, and there was no clear sign of any of them having what he was looking for. Shaking his head, he leaned back on feathered hands, staring up at the hotel ceiling.

"You're costing me time, money, and sanity...and I don't like going into the red..."

No response from the drunk. He turned around, glaring at the antelope and hating himself for it. The sensation of feeling things again wasn't pleasant. Too hot, too fast, too harsh. He wanted it buried again, and there was only one way to do that.

"Hmmph..." Amaros sighed, twisting the rest of the way around and digging his fingers into the antelope's pants. "You didn't have a tracker going, which means you turned off or got rid of your implant. But you'd still need money, so - there it is..."

He pulled the credit-stick the antelope had secreted in a hidden inner pocket free. It was a simple white block of cyber-material, printed off with various credit data points that could be spent at most of the establishments around here. Amaros tucked it into a vest pocket and slid back.

The professional in him knew that the better idea would be to wait at the hotel room for the arrival of the pick-up agents. He had been sent ahead to find Kent and cuff him, ensure that the antelope hadn't sold the program that he'd stolen from his corporate masters, and then ensure that he didn't do anything else before the other, slower-moving agents could get there. It was smarter to stay in the hotel room, eyes on the sleeping antelope, and make sure that the amateur didn't slip free of the cuffs with some hitherto unseen set of skills.

But even the professional in him knew that the lack of selvitride meant that he'd be off his game, and there was no real chance of Kent waking up for the next few hours. If he was fast, he could find what he needed and be back well before the drunk woke up.

And it wasn't like he didn't deserve a little recompense for this.

"You stay right there," he muttered to the sleeping antelope. "Or I'll make your life hell when I get back."

Snores were his only answer.

It was night in the Kaleidoscope, as it always was under the dome. Amaros looked up, watching as the advertisements played out along the underside of the blackened mega-screen that the dome became for those inside it. There were so many that it would have taken an implanted mind to actually sort through them all and process it, and he didn't have one of those. He watched as strip shows, drug dens, gambling establishments, and more played out commercials for those that might be susceptible to them, then took his eyes off the heights and back to the streets. He caught a pickpocket in mid-attempt, grabbing the wolf's paw before it could reach his pocket.

"Hands off."

"You got it, man. No harm, no foul."

"This time."

"Gotcha, gotcha."

The wolf hustled off, and Amaros began his trek. Experienced eyes flicked up and down the street, searching for someone that might be a dealer. He saw a few that were passing out old smokes - fire-based drug consumption had been outlawed for a while, and even here, in the Kaleidoscope, they were hard to find - but that wasn't his sort. He needed the patches, and selvitride, in particular. Not just for the high, but for the effect that they had.

He let his feet lead him along, not too bothered with where he was going as long as he went somewhere. The black-feathered hawk kept his hands in his pockets, one hand on a stun pad and the other on the credit stick. He put off his usual 'don't fuck with me' aura, head down and shoulders hunched, and the denizens of the Kaleidoscope seemed to get the message and left him the hell alone.

There was no doubt in his mind that he'd find his particular poison somewhere beneath the great dome. The Kaleidoscope was known far and wide as the City of Permitted Sin. There were hundreds of legalized vices available here that were not allowed anywhere else. From prostitution that went beyond the pale imitations that the other corners of civilization offered to the great drugs of the ancient civilizations to labs that catered to the augmented in ways that nowhere else but the tech giants could, the Kaleidoscope was the place to go if you wanted to leave the world behind, or - in the case of Kent - find a place to hide from the rest of the world for a while.

Still, you needed to know what you were doing and where you were going. Kent hadn't known either. Amaros only knew the former.

Eventually, he stopped at the corner of one street, looking up to find himself staring at a building that looked like the brainchild of some mad Egyptologist that had shacked up with a Gothic lover and had an architectural baby. It was built of the light-brown suntanned 'stone' that was so common over there, and the almost-organic stone shapes that rose out, ragged rather than firm-lined, rose up in bright lights that surrounded the base and made it look like something out of a dig site. Thick lines of smoke rose from the windows, sweet and heavy rather than bitter and dangerous, and at the front door were great statues that were just thin enough to look taller than they actually were.

A neon sign, the only thing that broke the Egyptian illusion on the outside, labeled it as 'The Cathedral of Anubis', and the sign itself had naked dancers that moved from one pose to another. It was cheap, obviously not updated for at least two decades - the classy places all had signs that moved fluidly rather from static pose to static pose - but there was something oddly charming about it.

Plus, he had a thing for temples. Committing sacrilege was no fun in the atheist spaces.

Driven halfway by the need for his drug and half by the feeling of arousal that he had been able to suppress with said drug for the last four months, Amaros crossed the street and climbed the five steps that led up to the front door. Two crocodile security guards, dressed in nothing more than loincloths, stopped him and asked for ID. He flashed them his wrist, which they scanned with a rod that looked like it was supposed to be some sort of pharoah's scepter, and then passed him through.

The interior was much more engaging than the exterior, and he smiled to himself as he had a better look at what the place had to offer. It was dim but not quite dark, with the lights shining through purple smoke to make it look like some sort of spiritual, otherworldly place. He had been to enough performances and corporate demonstrations to know when someone was trying to create a specific mood, and to give them credit, they were doing a pretty good job.

Amaros made his way to a booth and sat down. Each booth was separated from the others by a good five feet, creating much more open and negative space than he was used to in a strip club. They were also all placed in the center of the room rather than out at the edges or around a stage, and once he got comfortable, he could see why.

The Cathedral was built in the shape of an oval, probably akin to an eye when seen from above. The various booths created the pupil in the center of the eye, and the border consisted of a line of cages, each one occupied with a single stripper, and each stripper of the same species. The cages themselves were carried around, either on a conveyor belt of some sort or hanging invisibly from some runner toward the ceiling - Amaros couldn't be entirely sure either way - and it meant that everyone got to see the various strippers in the cages.

And they were all black jackals. Oh, they ranged from slender to thick, from almost feminine to hyper-masculine, but they were all jackals, all a version of the great Anubis that this was meant to be a temple of. He watched from his booth as they went by, each one wearing the same sort of attire. They had golden collars, bracelets, and anklets, with nothing over their chests and nothing but a loincloth that barely hung down to the middle of their sac. Some of them moved just enough to shift the loincloth and reveal a chastity cage under it, holding their cocks back and keeping them chaste.

He had seen three of them when the booth's table flickered. He looked down to see a little holo-screen take shape with the face of another jackal, more assured, more in-charge.

"Anubis, I take it?" Amaros muttered.

"Yes. Welcome to my cathedral. I hope that my concubines please you."

He smiled, looking up at the various jackals that were slowly rotating past his vision. They were appealing to the eye, but that wasn't why he was here.

"Menu."

The jackal face disappeared, replaced with a series of options. He scrolled through them, seeing what they had on offer besides the strippers. Not much, unfortunately; they had a small menu for food and drink, and a couple of aphrodisiacs, but nothing of the other substances that he wanted.

Disappointing. He had hoped that a temple might have something more interesting for him. Amaros looked up again -

And this time, his attention was hooked. One of the dancers passing into view was engaged in a far more vigorous dance, though certainly not one that he would call violent. There was a movement to it, a rhythm that kept what could have easily been something frenetic and frantic more flowing, more controlled. The black jackal had his back to the crowd, slowly swaying his hips back and forth, only to drop down to his ankles in a squat that showed a hint of pink in the black before rising back up. His hands stroked back over his ass, squeezing the cheeks so tight that he would have been amazed if the jackal didn't bruise himself, only to spank them and go back to the dance.

It was hard to look away, and that ankh that hung down from the jackal's balls, swaying back and forth on a chain, made him all the more appealing. Amaros nodded approvingly.

It was the first time that he'd felt his cock grow so hard in four months. The selvitride had been great at keeping those distractions to a minimum, but now? Now...

He shook his head. He needed more of that drug soon, before he started making some very, very stupid decisions. He brought up the menu again, tapping through the various dancers to get a close-up on this one.

Soon, he had it. The jackal's hologram popped up in three-dimensional style, and he flicked it left and right, taking in the various details. The dancer was certainly slender, one of those that didn't have the thicker hips or the wide shoulders that one would have expected of a male jackal, but the hologram confirmed that he was male. Nothing missing down there.

Up close, Amaros could see the collar that the jackal wore, and saw that it had a name. 'Bakura'. It meant nothing to him, but it was good to see that they were allowed names, at least.

He leaned back in his chair, debating. It would be smarter to leave, but he had been riled up now. He'd be thinking with his dick on the streets, and that was just inviting trouble when he didn't want it. And besides, this might be useful.

He slid the credit stick into the slot besides the emitter. The screen changed back to the other jackal, a face and nothing more. This time, the professional canine was smiling a little broader.

"Ah, you've found one you like, hmm?"

"Bakura."

"You will enjoy my concubines, mortal. They are all talented."

"I want Bakura."

"You shall have him. Provided that you have the offering to afford him."

The credit stick glowed in the slot, and a purple light moved up the white material. Amaros watched it climb past the halfway point and finally come to a halt two-thirds of the way up.

"Expensive whores," he muttered, withdrawing what remained of the stick. The rest shimmered before going dull and shattering.

Before he could stand up, the booth table opened, releasing the end of a leash. It was a magnetic emitter and anchor, he knew, but it would function for what he needed. He took it and walked out to the outer ring of the Cathedral, matching the pace of the slow-moving cages.

Bakura didn't stop his dance as the hawk approached. If anything, he seemed to increase his pace, showing himself off, putting himself out there. The chains that hung from between his legs swung faster, and his little cock cage was clicking with the soft tap, tap, tap of the chains moving around down there. There was a string of pre-cum that hung from the cage, implying that the canine enjoyed what he did, which was appealing enough for the hawk.

He tapped the emitter to the edge of the cage, guessing that it functioned as a key to allow the different dancers freedom. He was right, and the cage opened on contact. Bakura smiled, twisting himself around to face the hawk properly, and he lowered his head. A golden line of light extended from his collar to the leash, nothing more than an illusion to make the magnetic leash a little more fantastic, but it was well enough done.

"The great Anubis thanks you for your offering, oh visitor of the temple," the jackal said, bowing his head as he slid so sensually from the cage. "Allow me to thank you in his stead."

"Yes, you do that."

He pulled on the leash, walking the jackal back to the booth. It was a simple thing, but there was a sense of power and excitement behind it. He hadn't actually felt turned on and needy for some time, and this...this was something good. This was something rather exotic and erotic, as a matter of fact, and he looked forward to seeing what they actually did.

The jackal never stopped moving in that sensual, sexual way. It was like walking with a bitch just ahead of him, always showing off, always putting themselves on display. His eyes kept dropping down to that ass, that soft, black-furred ass, and he kept seeing that ankh between the thighs. It was truly selling the illusion of a holy concubine, he had to admit, and the fact that he was going to get to fuck a god's plaything only made him feel that much hotter under the collar.

He sat down first, and the jackal sat on his lap. He leaned back, only to jerk as the ground cracked under him.

"What -"

"Relax, sir," Bakura said, the jackal straddling his waist as they slowly descended. "The pleasures of the Underworld await you. Let the living world fade, and let the servant of Anubis show you the pleasures that await those that grant him their respect, and their loyalty."

Another gimmick, he supposed. It wasn't that bad, just...surprising. He would restrain himself for now.

As they descended through the mist, going further and further through the purple clouds, he kept his head on as straight as he could. That got progressively harder as the jackal's bare rump rubbed against his crotch, stirring his cock through his pants and making him more and more interested in what would happen when they reached the bottom. He bit off the grunts and moans of pleasure that wanted to come out, and he kept his head down, making sure that he looked at the jackal's crotch and hands rather than that tempting face. Old habits, survival habits, demanded that he not let himself get attached or stupid at that moment.

The jackal moved pleasurably, sliding, grinding, whispering to him the praises and thanks of the great jackal god. Amaros deliberately forced his mind to stay on the sex and nothing else...and that was surprisingly easy.

"Mmph..."

"I will show you the pleasures of Anubis."

"Make me cum. That's all I want."

"Oh, you will have your chance. I will give you all that you desire, and more. The pleasures of the Underworld are beyond anything that the world above can match."

"Big talk."

"Talk I shall fulfill, oh lovely one..."

They had slipped below the main floor of the Cathedral now, a panel of metal covering where the booth had been. The purple smoke that had been fairly abundant above was even thicker in this lower area. The booth spun slowly, rotating around to face in a different direction, and by the time they hit bottom, Bakura had managed to get his pants undone and had soft, delicate fingers wrapped around the hawk's cock.

"Mmmm, you come with much to offer me. My god will be pleased...and teased."

"Teased, huh?"

"You are vast, sir. I will be hard-pressed to walk away without regret when you are finished."

He imagined that the jackal said that to every customer, but it was still enough to send a throb through his cock. The booth finally came to a halt, and he looked across the room to see that there was a bed waiting. It was just large enough for two people, and it was lit with the green and blue lights of a place beneath the river. Probably to emulate being beneath the Nile or something like that.

"Come, let me please you," the jackal whispered, leaning forward and resting his muzzle against the hawk's shoulders. "Let me show you the pleasures that await you."

"You'll do that, alright."

Time to take charge, he decided. He grabbed the end of the leash and pulled back, shocking the jackal enough to make him gasp. Amaros kept pulling until the canine had to slide off his lap and hit the floor, and even then pushed it further, stepping on the leash to make sure that the jackal stayed on his knees.

"Let's get something straight. I'm the buyer here. The 'worshiper.' And that means, I call the shots. Understand?"

"Mmmph...yes, sir."

"And I want to feel pleasure...Now...Put that mouth to use."

"Mm...yes, sir."

Letting a little pressure off the leash, he guided the black dog's mouth to his cock. There was a soft lick at the tip, at first, just enough to tease it and make him remember how it felt to be horny and needy again, before the lips parted and the tip slid past them. He gritted his beak tighter, making sure not to let out a sound.

Four months of emotionally-induced chastity was something that he hadn't realized would hit him so hard. Oh, sure, there'd been times that he'd gotten off in those four months, but they were never so powerful as this was. He had just done it to get rid of a little tension. Now that he didn't have everything buried beneath a swamp of chemicals, there was something more potent about this, something more interesting and engaging. The bird bit off the chirps and moans that wanted to come free, but they were there nonetheless.

He pulled the jackal closer with the leash, making sure to bury his cock good and deep between those jaws. It went further than he imagined that the jackal was used to, or at least, he told himself that. The little gagging sounds that Bakura made meant that it was all the more pleasurable. It was a compliment to his size that the whore couldn't take it all.

In, out, in, out, the wet-heat feeling of that tongue adding to the pleasurable sensation of being buried balls-deep in someone else's throat. It was just what he needed, something to take the edge off the frustration of hunting Kent down and finding no challenge, no engagement. The boredom of waiting would have driven him crazy. This? This was what he needed.

Each tug on the leash yanked the jackal down his cock that much harder, ensuring that he got that impact from getting properly sucked off. Forward, back, forward, back, slicking up his cock over and over again. The jackal kept looking like he wanted to pull off and say something, probably something flirty to keep the illusion of the 'story' that they were trying to tell going, but that didn't matter to him. Amaros didn't want to get emotionally invested in whatever roleplay they were doing. He just wanted to get off and get on with his life.

He thrust away for nearly three minutes before he pulled his cock free again, the tip dripping with his pre-cum and his entire shaft sheathed in spit and throat-slime. To his credit, Bakura didn't gag or gasp when the hawk pulled back, only shaking his head and smiling.

"Mmm, are you prepared, good sir?"

"I'm ready for your ass."

"Then allow the great jackal's concubine to reward you."

They walked together to the bed, and the jackal climbed in first, getting on all fours and keeping that whip of a tail up and out of the way. There was no broad cheeks that he was used to seeing from some of the street-bois that thought that feminine curves were the way to a fat check. This dog was unmistakably male, even if he was more on the slender, petite side. His balls and cock were tied up, yes, and he was presented as someone lower than a 'real' male, but that didn't mean that he was anything less than male.

That dangling gold chain and the little bands of glittering yellow running down the jackal's tail only added to the appeal of the exotic erotic pet that he was acting like. Amaros discarded the rest of his clothes and joined the dog on the bed, sliding up between his legs and grinding between the cheeks. Soft, just a trifle wet - pre-lubed with the 'blessings' of the house, he imagined - the jackal's backside was perfectly prepared for the use it was going to get.

He slapped the cheeks once, and he enjoyed the little jiggle and groan. He could have put the leash down....but he had other plans for it.

"Are you ready?"

"Oh, more than ready...please..."

He chuckled, pulling back and grinding the head of his cock against that pucker. Tight, alright, but with that sort of give that trained whores had for their betters. This man knew how to take dick, and he probably did it regularly, considering that sort of sensual display that put his best assets out there.

He rested his cock against the clenching pucker for a few seconds, enjoying the way that the asshole kissed his cock, before slowly pushing forward. The soft squish of flesh against his tip was just what he wanted, and then -

Squelch.

Pop.

"Mmmm..."

He didn't know if Bakura was acting as the jackal gasped for breath, but he expected that the dark-furred canine was. There wasn't a whore in the Kaleidoscope that wasn't used to big dicks, but the act of being utterly shocked by the phallic offering was a turn-on. He pulled back slowly, letting it pop back out, and enjoyed the brief view of pink before the hole closed.

Another push, and he was back in. And out. And in. And out. Each time, teasing the 'gates of the Underworld' with his cock, teasing it open, taking pleasure - real pleasure - in the teasing and tempting that he was doing. The emotional impact, the fulfilling feeling of being in charge and knowing that this domination was his and his alone, actually made the act that much better.

He groaned as he realized he was doing something stupid, taking too much time in something that should have been a clinical chemical exchange, but it was hard to stop. The feeling of pleasure, the engagement of the tease, was just so good. He dragged his cock out slowly, and then pushed it back in, taking his time to go deeper, deeper, and deeper still. It took him almost a minute to fully bottom out inside of the jackal, feeling those cheeks pressed against his groin, feeling his balls resting against the swollen, black-furred pair of the canine under him.

"Mmmph...ah...ah..."

"That's it...now...push back..."

The jackal did as he was told, and Bakura soon started doing the work. Sliding forward, pushing back. Sliding forward, pushing back, each time making a soft squelch sound as the hawk's cock went deep and pushed into the increasingly wet, slimy hole that was waiting for him. It was just tight enough to tease, and just loose enough to be easy.

It didn't take long before he was allowing himself to moan, and less time before he started pushing the other man that much harder. The leash made it easy to pull him back, and the jackal moaned, obviously enjoying himself, getting into it. Each thrust was made that much hotter knowing that it was someone else begging for it rather than just him ramming it in to get off. Someone else taking care of him. Someone else wanting him. Someone else -

Emotional. Stop it.

He clicked his beak in annoyance, knowing he was letting himself fall for a fantasy rather than a reality. He had to keep an eye on that. Time for a shift.

He pulled the jackal back, then gradually dragged himself out of that hole. It squelched wetly around him, and as he shifted their position, lying the jackal on his back, the ankh slid down and over that pucker. It was a rather hot moment, something that made him feel almost like he was getting teased. The symbol almost looked like it was trying to deny him and give Bakura some hint of modesty again.

He refused to allow that, and reached down, pushing it out of the way. That pucker throbbed and clenched before him, wet and slippery, but still so tight-looking. He ran his finger in a circle around it, and the jackal moaned.

"Mmmph...you...you haven't..."

"I won't finish yet. Not until you do."

Why? He didn't know, but it was hotter that way. He sat up, grabbing hold of the jackal's legs and bending him back. What started as a mating press position shifted further, pushing the jackal's arms and legs over his head and using the leash to tie them there. He was helpless, utterly helpless.

Smiling, he took it just a hair further. Taking the leash, he tapped it to the jackal's golden cage. It clicked, falling open and letting loose a shaft no more than five inches long, flopping down hard and dripping over Bakura's belly. He took his position, cock against that eager hole, and gripped that shaft.

"Let's see how long you can last."

From the first thrust, he knew that the jackal wouldn't be able to last long. The new position meant that they were grinding against each other in a way that all but crushed the canine's prostate, and he loved the sudden shocks of real pleasure running through the canine under him. The fact that the cage had been removed probably contributed to Bakura's utter need, but that was secondary. The way that he was causing it, the way that he could just take the dignity of the little whore and make it all about the pleasure again, felt like it equalized things just a bit.

After all, if he was going to be lost in fascination and emotional pleasure, it felt only fair that the other man go through the same thing.

In, out, in, out he thrust, and this angle was better for him, too. Each time he bottomed out, he groaned, feeling that tight hole clenching around him, milking him, teasing him. He could see and feel that shaft throbbing and spitting pre-cum all over the jackal beneath him, and he grinned at the click-tap, click-tap of the ankh on the chain. Every time he slammed in, the concubine marks reasserted themselves, reminding both of them that the jackal beneath him was 'claimed' by a god, but was being taken by a mortal.

The story was cheesy, trite, but he felt things enough that it worked for him. He groaned as he humped away, ramming his hips down, feeling those cheeks jiggle ever so slightly from this angle. In, out, in, out, squelching wet and loud, the smell of sweat and musk punching through the incense around them. He could feel the slippery hole milking him for everything that he had, and he moaned out loud as he felt his pleasure rising.

Desperate not to cum first, he grabbed hold of the canine's shorter cock. It throbbed in his feathery hands, and the soft yelp from below told him that this was just what the doctor ordered. One stroke, two, three -

"NNNGH!"

Amaros grinned through his own pleasure as the jackal went over the edge. Two shots of cum were all that he had a chance to see - though they were hot hitting the jackal in the face - before his own orgasm slammed into him with all the force of a hover-car on overdrive. He bit off a shriek as he slammed in and held himself there, feeling his cock throb, spit, pulse with all that held-back lust of so many months. The orgasm hit him harder than he expected, and he went half-limp before he realized it, still spurting and spitting cum through his shaft and filling that hole to the brim.

They held themselves there afterward, a sticky mess of sweat and seed, and he shivered as he slowly pulled out. The sense of pleasure and need were still insanely strong, but he managed to keep a slight look of confidence on his face. Bakura, however, was all business. He slid himself to the side of the bed, collecting the chastity cage as he went, and was on his feet before the hawk could say a thing. As the jackal reached for the wall, tapping a button to open a hidden door, the hawk finally got a word out.

"Bakura."

The jackal stopped, looking over his shoulder. The worshipful, flirty expression had been replaced with a rueful smile.

"I'm sorry, but your session is up."

"That's not what I wanted to talk about."

"I'm not available for counseling, though I appreciate you using my name. Most people would have just called for the whore."

"Yeah...I'm not surprised. Anyway -"

"Quickly, if you please. I have to get cleaned up and re-equipped as fast as possible to get back on shift."

"Heh, well, if you'd let me get a word in edgewise..." Amaros sat up, reaching for his pants and pulling them back on. "I fucked you to clear my head. Now I need to keep it clear. Do you know anyone out there that's selling selvitride?"

"...Try the blue-eyed cat down at the entrance. He usually has some good stuff."

"Thank you."

They said their goodbyes in short form after that, and the black hawk dressed himself before returning to the booth. The same slow rotation in reverse took him upward, and he looked at the ceiling as the panel opened. The smoke was thinner up here, and he was able to think clearer. Not just from the orgasm, but from the lack of intoxicants that had been pushing through his veins mere moments ago.

That was...pleasurable, he thought. _But was it worth it?[/i/]

That was the question. Selvitride made it easier for him to control himself, and there were times when his professionalism hung by a thread made entirely by that drug. That said, the fuck had reminded him of how it felt to be off it, disadvantages and all. What were the costs of staying on it?

More to the point, how much harder would it be to get off it in the future if he went back on it now?_

The End

Summary: A hawk agent goes for some pleasure in an Anubis-themed strip club.

Tags: M/M, Chastity Cage, Edging, Teasing, Anal, Oral, Blowjob, Strip Club, Cyberpunk, Anubis, Orgasm, Cum, Prostitution, Hawk, Jackal, Bondage, Leash, Collar, Erection,